


Nigh

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ficlet, Frottage, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 01:38:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13447770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto gets pretty lucky, considering Noctis is serious about not getting truly lucky himself.





	Nigh

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Give me a slutty Noctis fic where he will do anything with anyone as long as it doesn't involve taking off his underwear. So he can perform oral on other people but they can't on him, no anal or piv, frottage is ok, makeouts are definitely okay, hand jobs through his underwear are okay as long as there's no skin to skin. ++lots of long-suffering sighs from Ignis when he repeatedly catches Noct in the act” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=8609326#cmt8609326).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Prompto’s already close by the time they stumble into the apartment, because Noctis is _that good_ with his hands and mouth and basically everything. They kiss their way over to the couch, full of tongue and teeth and dripping saliva—it’s a wet, frantic mess, but Prompto wouldn’t have it any other way. He wouldn’t have anyone but _Noctis_. He can’t believe how long he managed to resist this, especially with how brutally Noctis teased him. Teased everyone. As proper as his prince can be sometimes, behind closed doors, Noctis is an _animal_ , and Prompto is very much enjoying being eaten.

His knees hit the back of the couch, and Noctis shoves him down—he hits the cushions and tugs Noctis down by the black folds of his jacket. Smashing down into him, Noctis thrusts his tongue deeper into Prompto’s waiting mouth. He licks out every nook and cranny while his hands slip beneath Prompto’s shirt, not wasting any time. Prompto’s long fingers are lost in Noctis’ hair, half tugging in desperation and half just holding on for dear life. Noctis is _such_ a good kisser. No wonder everyone wants him. Prompto feels privileged just to have one evening, although he very much hopes that he’ll get _more_ , because he’s game to do anything with Noctis anytime, anywhere. Noctis scrunches Prompto’s shirt up between them, shoving it as high as it’ll go.

Then it’s stuck, bunched across his chest, pinned beneath his armpits. Noctis gives Prompto a final kiss, deep as it’ll go, then with draws to gnaw at Prompto’s chin. Prompto groans, bucking up. Another kiss to his jaw, then his throat, and Noctis skips his shirt to kiss down between his pecs. His nipples are already hard, pebbled with arousal, but he arches higher as Noctis licks over to the left one, laves a wet circle around it, and sucks it up into his mouth. Prompto _loses it_. He has to think of a Chocobo’s backside just to keep himself from coming. Noctis pinches his other nipple, working it between too-talented fingers as those sinful lips smile up at Prompto. Prompto whimpers like a puppy.

Each of his nipples are paid ample attention, tugged and twisted and sucked dry, left glistening with Noctis’ spit and as hard as they can be. Then Noctis diverts back down Prompto’s chest, kissing low across his stomach, and Noctis has his belt undone in a heartbeat, tossed aside, fly coming open. Prompto lets his pants be shoved down his thighs, and he whines as he tugs at Noctis’ hair, because if Noctis goes much further, Prompto will really lose it. When Noctis presses his open mouth against the front of Prompto’s tented boxers, Prompto practically screams, “Noct, stop—!”

“Why?” Noctis mutters, muffled around the imprint of Prompto’s straining cock. His eyes are sniggering, smirk self-assured—he knows _exactly_ how much Prompto wants him. Prompto can barely manage a response. He bites down on his lip— _hard_.

Noctis grabs the sides of Prompto’s boxers, but before he can tug them down, Prompto grabs them and holds them still. “You’re not gonna... I mean, _you’re_ not gonna...”

Noctis lifts just high enough off Prompto’s throbbing member for Prompto to not feel it anymore, though he can still _see_ how close Noctis is and just wants to buck right up. Noctis ignores his quivering hips and tells him smoothly, like this is all so perfectly reasonable, “You know I can’t, Prom—royal virginity, and all that shit.”

Prompto knows. But when Noctis had started... he just hoped... he groans and scrunches his eyes up, clunking his head back against the cushions. Noctis snorts and presses a kiss over his navel. That only presses Noctis’ lean throat across his cock, and Prompto whines harder, trying _so hard_ not to rut into Noctis like some wild dog. Noctis is too damn hot for his own good, and he makes it worse with all his dirty promises. He licks at the jut of Prompto’s hip and practically purrs, “Doesn’t matter—I can still blow your mind...”

Prompto doesn’t appreciate the pun, though his cock twitches at the suggestion. He mumbles, dizzy, “You don’t really...” but he knows Noctis _does_.

“How do you think I keep getting out of practice with Gladio whenever the two of us play hooky?” Noct snickers, pressing another kiss against Prompto’s rib, then back up to his breast. 

Blushing hot, Prompto mumbles, “You... you really fool around with Gladio...?” He probably already knew that, but hearing Noctis _admit it_...

“And Nyx,” Noctis casually adds, “even Cor, sometimes, though he was a harder one to bag... don’t you want to be part of the club, Prom?” He makes his way to Prompto’s throat again, and he gives Prompto a long, open-mouthed kiss that’ll probably turn into a hickey. Prompto irrationally hopes it does.

Noctis slips his hand along Prompto’s cheek and turns Prompto’s face to him, fills Prompto up with tongue again, and waits until Prompto’s a mewling, trembling wreck, to part them. He moans right into Prompto’s mouth, “ _Prom_...”

Prompto grabs Noctis’ shoulders and digs into them so hard that there’ll probably be bruises in the morning. Noctis grinds down into him, _hard_ , strong enough that the springs of the couch squeak their protest. Prompto tries to run his hands back up to Noctis’ hair, but Noctis grabs both of his wrists and maneuvers them down, along their two bodies—Noctis guides both hands into his pants, pinning them there and sliding them along his thighs. Prompto moans louder into Noctis’ mouth and runs them back to squeeze Noctis’ ass—it’s _amazing_ , even through his briefs. The underwear’s skin-tight, practically painted on, but Prompto would still give anything to tear it off. He kneads Noctis’ cheeks with a feral sort of hunger, drinking in every little detail—the weight of it, the warmth, the exact angle of the curve, they way they fill his hands when he digs in. His thumbs trace the seams, dancing along that tantalizing line between skin and fabric. His index finger presses just a _teeny bit_ below the band—

And Noctis reaches back to slap his knuckles, growling, “ _Prompto!_ ” fierce enough that Prompto yelps.

He gulps, “Sorry, sorry—won’t happen again!” and smiles up at the stern look on his best friend’s face. Somehow, Noctis is even hotter when he gets like that—when he gives commands. Prompto desperately wants to make his way around the front and feel the outline of Noctis’ cock against his palm, but he doesn’t want to risk crossing the line, so he pulls out instead. He wraps his arms up around Noctis’ shoulder again, and Noctis kisses the side of his mouth and seems to forgive him.

Noctis, at least, can put his hands everywhere he wants— _Prompto’s_ virginity is no one’s concern but theirs, and he’ll take everything he can. Noctis worms one arm between them and bypasses Prompto’s boxers completely—the second Noctis’ soft fingertips glide down Prompto’s bare shaft, he tenses. Then Noctis’ fingers are wrapping thickly around him, and it’s all too much for Prompto’s over stimulated body—he cries into Noctis’ mouth and comes on the spot, all over Noctis’ hand. Noctis hums approvingly and kisses him right through it, pumping him out.

He humps Noctis while the orgasm wracks through his body, and before he’s finished, Noctis groans, breaking out into a ferocious rut of his own. They grind into one another as they ride out their ends, still kissing and touching and fulfilling _almost_ every part of Prompto’s favourite daydreams.

Even as they’re coming down again, the kissing slows but doesn’t stop, and they collapse against one another, still shallowly rocking in place. Noctis feels heavier now, but Prompto’s willing to put up with that. He’s also stifling hot, but it’s so worth it. Even without _real_ sex, Prompto feels wondrously satiated, and hopes Noctis feels the same.

Noctis gives his lips a final lick before turning away and resting his face next to Prompto’s. Their cheeks still touch. Prompto’s giddy. 

Someone walks right through the open doorway of the living room, instantly killing Prompto’s mood. 

He squawks in mingled shock and horror. He tries to sit up, but Noctis flattens him down too effectively, and Noctis doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

Even when Prompto’s startled brain registers that it’s Ignis, he still has the horrible urge to slink off out of sight. Even if Noctis’ body is shielding his exposed torso, pulled-down pants, and cum, it’s still obvious what they’ve been doing. The air reeks of sex. Prompto fully expects Ignis to march over and wrench Prompto out from under Noctis, then shove him out of the apartment and tell him to never return. 

Bug Ignis only looks at Noctis, and he just shakes his head before he sighs in obvious exasperation, “ _Again_?”

Prompto couldn’t blush any harder if he tried. Noctis shrugs noncommittally and grunts, “You wouldn’t have to keep walking in on it if you’d learn to knock.”

“If you were afforded such boundless privacy, we really would need to affix you with a chastity device.” 

Prompto can’t believe it. He never thought he’d hear the words ‘ _chastity device_ ’ leave Ignis’ mouth. And Noctis doesn’t even act offended, just counters, “I kept my underwear on. ‘Still a virgin.”

“Perhaps this time, but if you continue on this path, one thing may lead to another...”

“It hasn’t yet,” Noctis cuts in, before donning a positively predatory smirk that has Prompto _staring_. Noctis even licks his lips as he purrs, “Maybe you’ll back off if I _show_ you just how much I can manage without ever crossing that line...”

Prompto slowly turns his gaze back to Ignis, wholly unsure if he’s jealous or turned on. A part of him kind of hopes that Ignis will break into agreement and the three of them will reconvene inside the bedroom.

But Ignis somehow manages to ignore Noctis’ raw sexual magnetism, and he tells Prompto simply, “I think it’s time that you went home.”

Prompto open his mouth to shamefully agree. But then Noctis is climbing off of him, and he’s busy shoving his shirt down and pulling his pants up to hide the evidence of their misbehaviour. Rising easily up to his feet, Noctis grabs Prompto’s wrist. He tells Ignis, “Fine— _after_ we have a shower.”

Looking positively scandalized, Ignis opens his mouth, but Noctis adds as though he’d always meant to: “ _In swim trunks._ But you’re free to come and supervise if you want.” He even winks. Prompto thinks he might faint.

He doesn’t get the chance, because his prince pulls him off towards the washroom, and Ignis, left with little choice, begrudgingly falls in behind.


End file.
